


save yourself—

by etherealanything



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Case fic (kinda), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:33:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24980011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etherealanything/pseuds/etherealanything
Summary: (for who?)Garcia worries; Hotch notices
Relationships: Penelope Garcia & Aaron Hotchner
Comments: 7
Kudos: 40





	save yourself—

**Author's Note:**

> this is the result of two writing sprints (and a bit) so i'm pretty happy with how it turned out
> 
> title adapted from "no-fly zone" by tracy k smith
> 
> criminal minds is the property of cbs

“What the hell?” Garcia’s voice, more irritated than he had ever heard it, rang through the tiny office the local PD had provided.

Hotch looked up from the files he had been studying. The tech analysts’ fingers, usually in constant motion, were still, and her expression was one of intense concentration.

“Garcia, what’s wrong?” he asked. She had been trying to track down their unsub’s latest alias, but being as the man seemed to change identities once a month, it hadn’t been easy. They had been lucky to get a call at all, but some bright recruit had noticed a signature in the kidnapping and run it through VICAP, so here they were.

She looked surprised to hear him talk, as if she hadn’t realized she had spoken her thoughts out loud. “Nothing sir, just a technical snag.”

“Internet acting up?” That was why they had brought her out here, after all. The signal in the middle of nowhere Montana was spotty at times, and there was no way it could facilitate the kind of constant communication with Garcia that the rest of the team needed. They couldn’t do it without her, no ifs ands or buts about it.

“No sir, I’ve hit a dead end. Paper trail until six months ago, and then, bam! nothing. It’s like he suddenly stopped existing.” She scrunched up her face, and Hotch thought to himself how strange it was to see her with anything less than a full-on grin.

“And you’ve checked everything, cross-referenced likely places of employment like I asked you to?” He trusted she had, but it was best to be thorough.

“Yes, and still nothing, but I’ll keep on looking.” Garcia returned to her furious typing and Hotch to his files, but he couldn’t help but keep an eye on her. She continued searching, getting more agitated by the minute, muttering under her breath all the while. Eventually, her volume increased such that he could hear what she was saying.

“I’m supposed to be good at this,” was her constant refrain, and Hotch knew as soon as he heard her that he had to put a stop to that kind of thinking before she ended up spiraling. The problem with someone whose highs were so high was that their lows were always rock bottom.

“Garcia, maybe we’re going about this wrong.” His words had the intended effect of making her look up from her computer, but her hands were still going.

“No, I can do this, just give me more time!” Honestly, he doubted it. She was the best technical analyst in the country, as far as he was concerned, and if she couldn’t find it, it couldn’t be found.

“What if we tried looking for patterns in previous aliases, figure out if there’s any connection?” A man changing names that many times had to have a system. And it would get Garcia off her computer, let her have a moment to cool down.

“I don’t do patterns, sir. I’m not a profiler.” Her hands had stilled again, though, so he could tell she was at least slightly intrigued.

“I know you have a keen eye, and that’s really all you need.” The FBI probably didn’t want him spreading that information, but it was true. Jurisdiction, patterns, and a gun: that was the job. He looked to her for a response, but she still didn’t look totally convinced. 

“Garcia, I know you’ve done the best you can, but sometimes there’s nothing more to be found. You’ll be much more useful helping me piece together what we already know.” At this she sighed, shutting her computer and joining him at the table.

Together they leafed through driver’s licenses, diplomas, and birth certificates, evidence of their unsub’s many lives. It made Hotch’s head swim, to be perfectly honest; he couldn’t imagine reinventing oneself that many times. He had only ever done it once, right out of college, left his parents and never looked back. Even now he sometimes feared meeting someone from his childhood, someone who would look at him and then announce, “this isn’t the real Aaron Hotchner.”

Garcia was much the same, he reflected. She had gone from child to adult much too quickly, but had made the transition from vigilante to government employee without losing an inch of her personality. Many agents he knew let the job transform them, let it harden them, but Garcia remained every inch the woman he had arrested.

Her laser sharp focus served her well, and he knew she had found the answer from the way she looked up from the papers, her customary smile back on her face. A quick search later, and Hotch was relaying a name and an address to the rest of the team. Then there was nothing to do but wait.

When the rest of the team got back to the precinct, Morgan relayed what had happened. They had found the unsub exactly where Garcia said he would be, broke down his door and found him standing in his living room, not bothering to hide the blood stains on his clothes. That was the good news. The bad news was: they were too late to save the last girl.

Hotch could tell Garcia blamed herself from the way she made herself look at the photos of the final victim, her solemnity an acknowledgement of her perceived fault.

When, on the ride home, he sat down next to her, she was quick to voice those feelings.

“About the case: I’m sorry, sir, I know I should have done better.” Her eyes were puffy, but he hadn’t seen her cry. Perhaps she had more discretion than he gave her credit for.

“Garcia, you’re fantastic at what you do, but sometimes things just can’t be done. You played an important role in helping us find him, and nobody else will ever have to suffer because of him.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he continued. “We can’t save them all, and I know that’s a tough pill to swallow, but we have saved so many.  _ You  _ have saved so many.”

She nodded. He could see now, looking closely, that she had dark circles under her eyes, and he was willing to bet that she hadn’t slept at all last night. _ I see them too,  _ he didn’t say.  _ Their still bodies and accusatory eyes, asking me why I was too late. _

“Get some sleep,” he said instead. There would be more people to save, always more, and more to lose. But they would deal with it together, drawing strength from the knowledge that they were not alone.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @ellegreenawy


End file.
